


Ruining everything

by Jackeline Harkness (Jackeline_Harkness)



Category: The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gift Fic, M/M, Steve Tony Appreciation Celebration Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-15 00:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackeline_Harkness/pseuds/Jackeline%20Harkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark has always been famous because of his name, his fortune and his brains. However, it's because of his immature playboy antics that the media loves him.</p><p>Now, after dealing with old vendettas, challenging terrorists, fighting off alien invasions and keeping himself as a leader in technological innovation, he's moved on to working on his personal life as well. He's even managed to enter a stable relationship with one Steven Rogers. However, is he capable of settling down from his old playboy ways? Or will he ruin it all?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shaliara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaliara/gifts).



> Happy STACD!!!! :D

 

The ever efficient, level-headed, brilliant, beautiful, resourceful, infinitely patient and eternally elegant Pepper Potts had been by Tony Stark’s side since… well, it didn’t even matter how many years now, because it felt like forever and Tony needed her more than someone who couldn’t breathe by themselves needed an oxygen tank. So by now, he could feel her disapproval radiating off her in hot waves from her spot a few feet from him. So he should have listened to common sense and taken her silent advice. So he should have simply shut up.

However, like history could prove, even great, almost superhumanly skilled Pepper Potts was unable to completely save him from himself, and so he proceeded to follow his self-destructive impulses, blowing things so out of proportion that he could actually hear a voice at the back of his mind, sounding suspiciously like Rhodey as it told him that he’d gone too far already, that if he took that extra step, he’d be venturing into a territory that was even beyond Pepper’s magical damage control abilities. Had Rhodey ever said something along those lines? Tony wasn’t sure, but _Damage Control_ sure sounded like his old friend’s words.

In any case, the fact was that one minute he was standing there, in the middle of the lounge, with Pepper glaring a hole in the back of his head, standing so close to Steve he could feel his fresh breath on his face. He opened his mouth to say something about Steve using his height to implement the ancient bully technique of getting impossibly close to force the smaller guy to bend his neck and look up into his eyes. His superior mind, racing at the speed of light, even anticipated what would follow: Steve would lose it and punch him. It would get him square in the jaw, maybe it would drop him, maybe it would split his lip; but in any case, it would bruise beautifully. Steve would be shocked, he would run to get an ice pack and hold it against Tony’s bruised face while repeating over and over how sorry he was. Pepper would sigh, leave the papers on the table, save the chewing-out for later, wish them a good evening and retire home to leave the crazy bruised boss in peace for at least a few days. He and Steve would talk quietly while Tony poked at some thing or another on his tablet and Steve cooked dinner. After a delicious meal, Steve would insist on a bath, not a shower; and then they’d make love and Steve would apologize again for the bruise on Tony’s face and things would go back to normal after a few days of renovated honeymoon.

Except none of those things happened, because when he opened his mouth, the words that came out were:

“I’m done.”

“What do you mean _you_ ’re done?” Steve asked, and there was that damned tone in his voice, like it was natural to assume that Tony was to blame for this because everything was always Tony’s fault.

“I’m done. I’m out of here”, he said, almost against Steve’s lips. From such a close distance, he could see anger and exasperation making the blue of his eyes boil.

“What d..?”

“Are you really so simple-minded, _Rogers_?” he interrupted, spitting his last name as if it was an insult. “What it means it’s that I’m going out to get drunk, and get laid, and to get away from here for a while. See? Three purposes in one single action”, he continued, holding up three fingers. “Because I’m that fucking awesome!”

Of course, it had taken him less time to say it than it takes to even think about it, because he was that eloquent. Because his mouth, at times, went even faster than his brain, and shouldn’t that be impossible?

What seemed impossible was to fix it, because then the infinite blue of Steve’s eyes sparked with something that wasn’t anger anymore, and there was no pain and no impact and no grunting, but Steve was still falling away from him.

“Then go.”

And Tony had to wonder if there had been Hydra agents, over half a century ago, that had heard that exact same tone, so neutral that it actually felt sharp, like being hit by something blunt but hard.

“Like I need your permission”, he’d said, because the need to have the last word was too deeply ingrained in him, out-weighting the stab of cold guilt he felt at seeing those blue eyes full of pain as he twisted the proverbial knife into the wound. And then, because he didn’t know what to do, he’d let pride lead him to the basement, into one of his fancy cars and out of the building.

The wind didn’t bring him any comfort. The speed offered him no sense of freedom. Not even an ephemeral one.

His mind was so busy replaying the events of the last hour that he detachedly wondered if he’d kill himself in a car crash. The fact that he didn’t seem to be able to care too much should have been an alert of how things were about to go.

He’d let three girls lean close to him and hook their exquisite lithe arms around him, and had ordered two bottles of scotch as he claimed a big couch in the VIP section of the club for himself. He’d grinned as the blonde had poured him a glass, her skin tanned to a gold almost the exact shade of the liquor, and he’d drained the glass in a single long gulp as the ebony beauty draped an impossibly long leg over his lap.

Hours later, he was standing against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the luxurious hotel room, watching as the sun slowly shredded the Night to dust and drowned the stars up and below in its hot, omnipresent light. Blue and gold seemed to have an uncanny ability to destroy great things into nothingness… at least where Tony was concerned.

How had things gotten to this point? It had all started with him wanting to make plans and Steve paying too much attention to Pepper and her business babble, because he was that much of a gentleman. Why did her words even make sense to him when Tony’s flew over his head nine times out of ten, anyway? Their discussion had gotten nowhere, just as expected, and by the time Pepper arrived and he tried to cancel meetings, Steve had decided Tony needed more than one slave-driver in his life and happily enlisted into Pepper’s Responsible Army. The word responsibility had somehow brought its cousin commitment and from there, things had gone downhill.

Tony rested his forehead against the glass and closed his eyes.

He didn’t know how long it’d been. He only knew that by the time he walked away from the window, leaving a greasy stain on the security glass, dawn had somehow morphed into full morning. He ordered breakfast and managed to eat half of it, his eyes unwilling to stop looking at the bottle of whisky for more than a few seconds.

A downside of having such a powerful and fast mind was that time spent thinking tended to seem in fact longer than it actually was, as opposed to the time working with your hands, because when he got busy in the workshop, it sure felt like hours turned into minutes, and days into hours. As things were right now, though, he found himself checking out of the hotel at the absurdly early hour of seven in the morning, leaving behind an unusually tidy room and a barely touched bottle of scotch.

Perhaps it was because of his time in the army, or perhaps it was simply his nature, but Steve was a very disciplined person, which meant he was up at the same ungodly hour every morning, and not even thirty minutes later he was running through a park despite the state-of-the-art gym they had at home, completely oblivious of all the other early birds stopping to stare at him despite his being Captain fucking America. As if his work-out routines weren’t already inhuman enough, whenever Steve felt upset about anything, he tended to prolong his sessions even more, so it was most likely that when Tony arrived home, he would still be outside trading sweat for an even more perfect body… the bastard. Still, he didn’t even ask Jarvis if he was in. Instead, he stepped into his – _their_ , Pepper would insist– private elevator and went directly to his lab.

There, in what felt the most like his natural habitat, Tony felt like he could breathe again. His mind continued to take revenge on him by slowing time down in an almost surreal fashion, but once he found something to occupy both mind and hands, seconds, minutes and hours melted together in a seamless body of ideas, experimentation, schematics, ordering You to make him another smoothie or Dum-E to bring him another packet of trail mix.

“Sir?”

“Yes, Jarv?” he asked, without taking his eyes off the schematic he was working on.

“I must inform you that Captain Rogers has taken his pillow to the green guest room.”

“Oh.” And what was he supposed to say to that? What was he supposed to do? Being stupidly relieved at the confirmation that, even if he was moving rooms, Steve hadn’t left the tower? That sounded about right, so Tony settled for that, sitting down on a stool and staring at empty air for a while. At least it was better than forcing himself to pretend that he was surprised that he’d spent all day locked in the lab already.

Jarvis stayed in silence and Tony wondered, not for the first time in his life, when his AI had developed more common sense than himself.

After an undetermined amount of time later, he got up and walked to the bathroom in his lab. He splashed some water on his face and then toweled dry, only looking at his reflection in the mirror after grabbing a spare t-shirt from under the sink. Definitely not his best, but he’d looked worse hundreds of times, so it was nothing to worry about. It was, however, better than letting his mind wander back to Steve sleeping in a guest room but still in the place they called home, or how he had to work on how to fix things with him at some point, or how he was totally not hiding in the lab because he knew there was no way Steve would run into him here, unless he meant to, or how he was distracting himself with projects he already knew had no future because alcohol had failed him.

Maybe he could…

But he discarded the idea even before it finished taking shape in his mind, shaking his head and blinking rapidly a couple of times as he made a beeline for the coffee maker. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, so he might as well be more alert as he tinkered with… stuff. Plus, it was a proven fact that the coffee maker and the bots were sure ingredients for disaster whenever they were put together.

He closed his eyes, trying to shield himself from things that demanded his attention and he definitely didn’t want to deal with right then. A soft chime made him start, and he found himself wondering how he had lost at least ten minutes of his life without noticing he was actually spacing out.

“Huh.” He frowned, poured himself a cup of coffee, and sipped it as he returned to his chair, sparing a glance at the holographic displays that filled half of the room before scrapping them all with a single gesture of his hand.

 

 


	2. Part 2

“Sir, Captain Rogers is packing a suitcase.”

Tony froze, his brain already making wild theories about why that would be happening when lesser minds would still be working on making sense of the words, much less assimilating them.

“He’s got a mission. He does things for SHIELD”, he said, not really loud, as he selected this theory over all the other more fatalistic ones that were jumping around between his temples.

“It would seem unlikely, since I haven’t registered any calls proceeding from SHIELD.”

And then, his brain started to fumble for a way to prevent Steve from actually leaving the tower, whatever it was, as long as it worked. He wasn’t above putting the whole building in a tight lockdown if it gave him just a little more time, because he knew Steve as well as he knew his arc reactor, and that meant that Steve wouldn’t take hours to pack like he did, because how hard could it be to pack when most his clothes were old man slacks and plain white t-shirts and button downs in three or four different shades of blue that still managed to look like they’d been cut out of traditional picnic clothes and white plain socks and underwear and so it meant that it really didn’t matter and Steve could just grab two or three of each and stuff them in a bag and he’d be done and then he’d be gone and…

It was actually the sound of his own gasps what made him realize he was once again suffering from an anxiety attack. Wasn’t he supposed to be over those? Well, yes; but Steve was also supposed to be by his side.

“Sir, Captain Rogers is” Jarvis said, and Tony felt his guts knot painfully for a moment as he absorbed his words, “headed your way.”

Like a startled deer, his head shot up almost violently, turning around to quickly see if there were any displays that needed to be cleared or hidden before Steve got there. There weren’t, and even the half-done projects that he liked to keep to himself until they were finished and polished up wouldn’t make any sense to the blond, so it didn’t matter. His eye caught sight of the date on the lower corner of the display, though. Had it been four days already? That certainly explained why the stack of clean shirts in the cabinet under the sink had been depleted a few hours ago.

“Sir?”

And Tony managed to look up right in the moment Steve came into the workshop, carrying a tray. Later, the engineer would have time to rationalize that the fact that his attention had focused on Steve’s ancient and battered leather messenger bag slung across his chest and not the scent of toasted bread and fresh coffee was more than enough evidence that he was seriously worried.

“I was half expecting Jarvis to tell me I wasn’t authorized to enter anymore,” and it was all light-hearted. Tony knew him well enough to recognize when he was trying too hard. This was what that sounded like.

“Why would I do something like that?” Tony asked, and he watched closely as Steve just took a deep breath.

_Why do you ever do anything?_ Was the response Steve was too polite and too patient to put in words, but that was written all over him anyway. He looked tired as he set the tray down on a nearby table, next to a few books, a bunch of wires and a mismatched set of screwdrivers.

“Are you leaving?” he asked, and his voice sounded so dry to his own ears that for an instant he wondered how that same voice could be used to make witty and funny remarks.

“I don’t know, Tony. Because you haven’t given me any reason to stay. Hell, the only reason I knew you were still alive after your big party night was because Jarvis assured me you were and I have never known him to lie.”

Tony didn’t know how to answer to that, and weren’t these the perfect circumstances for him to have his first time being left without words?

“You throw a tantrum, go out, then come back and not say a word, not even show your face while Pepper is trying to deal with yet another scandal and even then all the media can’t seem to have enough of the interviews and the photos and the videos and… and the whole world knows that you ruined everything even before I do. It was you who insisted on teaching me how to use the internet, and yet you ask me if I’m leaving? You’re the genius, you never get tired of reminding me. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

And that was the second time things weren’t going as planned around Steve. What was he supposed to say? That he had lost track of time? That he’d been hiding in the workshop for days but it wasn’t enough time yet? That he wasn’t ready yet so Steve should go back to the penthouse and wait patiently until he was done and the plan ready to be executed?

“I didn’t”, was what came out of his mouth.

 “You’re going to tell me that you didn’t…”

“Anything”, he interrupted. “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t ruin anything. It was you, Rogers.”

Steve just stared at him. Not like he wanted to punch him, but like he was infinitely tired. Too tired, in fact, to even feel rage, so he instead was settling for a dull sadness. He looked like he was just done. He straightened up from where he was half sitting on the edge of the table and started to turn away.

Tony caught his wrist. And when and how had he gotten so close?

“I didn’t do anything. That night. Or before or after… I mean, it was obvious because I’ve been here all this time and you’ve been talking to Jarvis and he would’ve told you if I went out again and…” He paused, took a couple of calming breaths and tried again. “What I mean is, I didn’t do anything. This isn’t the first time the press has a field day with me, true, but this may actually be the first time they’re dead wrong. I didn’t sleep with those girls… that girl, even, I, I didn’t sleep with anyone. I didn’t even drive around drunk because I never got drunk. Because I don’t want any of those things anymore. Because you ruined them forever for me… as uncool as that might sound, that’s the truth.”

“Couldn’t you just have said so?” He winced, and Tony felt relieved because he knew, just looking at him, that he believed him, even if he didn’t want to.

“No. Because you were right. Earlier. Not way earlier, but like two minutes earlier. About me not giving you reasons to believe anything different from what you see in the media. So I had to come up with something to change that, you see, and there were different possibilities, but I wanted to go for what was obviously most important and…”

“And did you manage it? After more than half a week?”

“Yes”, he said automatically, because any other answer would have been unacceptable.

Steve gave him that look. He still looked tired, which was unusual for a man who ran like fifty miles every morning before breakfast and slept only four hours a day, but the expression on his face was the one that said that he could easily be exasperated to no end right in that moment, but was making a very conscious effort to be amused instead.

“Marry me”, he blurted out.

For a moment, Steve just stared at him like he thought he had finally lost it. Then his expression turned doubtful and it was more like he suspected he himself had gone mad and had obviously misheard him.

“What?” the soldier finally managed.

“I’m asking you to marry me. You and Pepper are probably… well, most likely right. About me having commitment issues. So if I can be committed to one single thing in my life, I want that thing to be this. Us. And this is the twenty first century so we should take advantage of that and get married.”

Steve continued to just stare at him.

“So...? Come on, don’t be like that, you know I’m not patient. Do I have to repeat it? Maybe get down on one knee and everything?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m a genius. I have tes…” and the rest of his argument, backed up by actual documents that Jarvis could pull up from the archives, was lost in a deep kiss that seemed to last forever, but that felt way too short once it was over.

“That’s a yes, yes?”

“Yes.”

“For such an old-fashioned fellow, your yes is certainly less than traditional.”

And because Steve had mastered the art of making him shut up without having to actually say the words, they spent the next few minutes –or hours, who cared? – kissing. Lightly, deeply, softly, hard…

Then Steve was just there, with his arms around Tony’s waist and a smile on his lips.

“So… now I’ll have to let you drag us to the mall to shop for rings?” he asked half-jokingly and mostly to steel himself to endure another of Tony’s terrifying shopping sprees. He’d never admit it aloud, but he did find modern day stores a bit intimidating. Maybe more than a bit.

“Oh, absolutely no!” Tony said, already changing into engineer mode even as he maneuvered himself out of the loose embrace. “We must have something strong and durable, so we’ll use a platinum, gold and titanium alloy. I got these” he explained as Jarvis assisted him and pulled up a few wedding rings designs, “from a few prestigious designers.”

“You sure had everything planned…”

“Well, things didn’t go exactly according to the plan. But the order of the factors doesn’t alter the product, so it doesn’t really matter.” He turned back towards the holographic display, zooming into one of the designs. Steve knew he had seen the small logo on the corner in one of the expensive stores Tony had dragged him into to shop for a tie. “I thought you might like this one. See these? I think it looks strong, and yet elegant. It’d match…”

Steve smiled, deciding that he’d let him talk for a while before telling him he preferred simple plain bands. In the meanwhile, he grabbed a nearby tablet and brought up a design program. It was almost as good as his sketchpad. Almost.


End file.
